


joy in a name

by theoreticlove



Series: the sunset glows [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: I Told Myself I’d Never Write OCs In Fanfic, I lied, M/M, Naming Day Ceremony, The Ñoldor Are Assembled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 20:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20297521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticlove/pseuds/theoreticlove
Summary: ecthelion and glorfindel name their baby daughter





	joy in a name

There was phenomenally loud chatter in the temple, but that was to be expected, considering the majority of the Ñoldor were all gathered in one place. Of course, there were Vanyar elves, too, a small group of blondes, but none quite as raucous and excited as the sea of dark-haired elves. 

They all hushed immediately, however, as a priest of Eru moved to stand before the altar at the front of the temple. And somehow, they went even quieter when Ecthelion and Glorfindel moved to join the priest, their week-old daughter bundled in their arms. Miraculously, she was not crying.

“People of the Ñoldor, people of the Vanyar. Family, friends and well-wishers. We are gathered here to celebrate the naming day of the admittedly adorable daughter of Ecthelion and Glorfindel, heroes of their peoples.” 

Applause broke out, people already smiling and delighted. Many of the Ñoldor had come to wish well the daughter of their heroes, those who had saved so many of their numbers, who had fought and fought and finally been able to spend the rest of their lives at peace. Many, even those who did not know them personally, were so very happy that they could now achieve their happy ending.

It had been a long road. Ecthelion and Laitar, only returning to Valinor and Glorfindel midway through the fourth age. All three of them trying to recover from the trauma of being at war for centuries. They had come so far, and the Ñoldor were so very proud of them. Their new baby daughter now cemented the fact that after so long, they were at peace.

“Glorfindel, Laurëfindil, what do you name your daughter?” The priest asked.

“Ilvanë,” said Glorfindel, every inch of him glowing with pride. Appreciative murmurs ran through the crowd. Perfect one, she had been named. How fitting for one who brought her parents such joy, happiness, pride. The Ñoldor who had seen the baby were even more inclined to agree. 

“Ecthelion, Ehtelë , what do you name your daughter?” 

“Liltarë,” Ecthelion answered, gazing down at the baby in his arms with fondness enough to make butter melt. Dancer, she was called. Perhaps Ecthelion had foreseen that she would be passionate about dance. Perhaps, even, she would make a career for herself out of it. The arts were a wonderful thing for any Ñoldorin child to be involved in, revered even more than sciences or linguistics. 

The priest smiled, taking the newly-named baby from Ecthelion to present to the crowd.

“May I introduce, on behalf of Glorfindel and Ecthelion, Ilvanë Liltarë!”

Furious applause broke out once more, smiles adorning everyone in the temple. Ecthelion’s mother, sitting in the front row with her husband, wiped her eyes, glowing with pride over her granddaughter and holding Laitar, her first grandchild, tight against her. 

Glorfindel took Ecthelion in his arms, kissing the top of his head, bright smiles on both their faces as they looked at their daughter.

The priest then held up a hand, making the crowd silent once more.

“I invite Glorfindel and Ecthelion to be joined now by the person they have chosen to help raise their child should they need it, who would look after dearest Ilvanë Liltarë, and help teach them the customs of the Ñoldor when her parents are otherwise unable.”

Glorfindel let go of Ecthelion, walking over not to the first pew, but to the second, where Nerdanel the Wise sat. The Balrog Slayer offered her a hand and she took it, smiling through tears as she walked up to take the baby from the priest, cooing down at her.

Whispers broke out among the room. Many had been caught by surprise. They had known, of course, that Ecthelion and Glorfindel and formed a friendship with the wife of Fëanor, but had not realised that they had become so close as to ask this of her. 

Whether the assembled Ñoldor believed that it was a good decision, however, was not their place. It was their place to celebrate the child, and respect the decisions of her parents.

The look on Ecthelion’s mother’s face made that extremely clear. 

And either way, when the baby had been blessed by the priest in Eru’s name, and returned to Ecthelion’s arms, the congratulations of nearly all the Ñoldor, and some Vanyar, were as genuine as they possibly could have been.

**Author's Note:**

> the last time i went to a baptism i was like,,, six so i genuinely don’t know what the hell i’m doing with this specific fic


End file.
